Christmas Trio B. Debbie Macomber

second officer approached them. His badge said he was Deputy Rogers. “We had two separate phone calls from neighbors who claimed three men were breaking into this house.”

      “We weren’t breaking in!” Mel turned to his brothers to confirm the truth.

      “I looked in the window,” Linc confessed, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize that was a crime.”

      Pierpont snickered. “So we got a Peeping Tom on our hands.”

      “There’s no one at home!” Linc shouted. “There was nothing to peep at except a crazed cat.”

      “I tried to open the back door,” Mel said in a low voice.

      “Why’d you do that?” Rogers asked.

      “Well, because …” Mel glanced at Linc.

      As far as Linc was concerned, Mel was the one who’d opened his big mouth; he could talk his own way out of this.

      “Go on,” Rogers prodded. “I’d be interested to know why you tried to get into this house when your brother told us you were searching for your sister and that you knew there was no one here.”

      “Okay, okay,” Mel said hurriedly. “I probably shouldn’t have tried the door, but I suspected Mary Jo was inside and I wanted to see if that elderly couple was at home or just hiding from us.”

      “I’d hide if the three of you came pounding on my door.” Again this was from Deputy Rogers.

      “What did I tell you, Jim?” Pierpont said. Mel’s comment seemed to verify everything the officers already believed. “Why don’t we all go down to the sheriff’s office so we can sort this out.”

      “Not without my attorney,” Linc said in a firm voice. He wasn’t going to let some deputy fresh out of the academy railroad him. “We didn’t break any law. We came to the Rhodes residence in good faith. All we want … all we care about is locating our little sister, who’s pregnant and alone and in a strange town.”

      At that point another car pulled up to the curb, and a middle-aged man stepped out, dressed in street clothes.

      “Now you’re really in for it,” Pierpont said. “This is Sheriff Troy Davis.”

      As soon as Sheriff Davis walked toward them, Linc felt relieved. Troy Davis was obviously a seasoned officer and looked like a man he could reason with.

      The sheriff frowned at the young deputies. “What’s the prob lem here?”

      They both started talking at once.

      “We got a call from dispatch,” Pierpont began.

      “Two calls,” Rogers amended.

      “From neighbors, reporting suspicious behavior,” Pierpont continued.

      “The middle one here admits he was trying to open the back door.”

      Mel leaned forward. “Just checking to see if it was locked.”

      Linc groaned and turned to his brother. “Why don’t you keep your trap shut before we end up spending Christmas in jail.”

      To his credit, Mel did seem chagrined. “Sorry, Linc. I wanted to help.”

      Linc appealed directly to the sheriff. “I understand we might have looked suspicious, peeking in windows, Sheriff Davis, but I assure you we were merely trying to figure out if the Rhodes family was at home.”

      “Are you family or friends of Ben and Charlotte’s?” the man asked, studying them through narrowed eyes.

      “Not exactly friends.”

      “Our sister knows Ben’s son,” Ned told them.

      Mel nodded emphatically. “Knows him in the Biblical sense, if you catch my drift.”

      Linc wanted to kick Mel but, with all the law enforcement surrounding them, he didn’t dare. They’d probably arrest him for assault. “Our sister’s having David Rhodes’s baby,” he felt obliged to explain.

      “Any day now,” Mel threw in.

      “And she disappeared,” Ned added.

      “If we’re guilty of anything,” Linc said, gesturing with his hands, “it’s being anxious to locate our sister. Like I said, she’s alone in a strange town and without family or friends.”

      “Did you check their identification?” the sheriff asked.

      “We hadn’t gotten around to that yet,” Deputy Rogers replied.

      “You’ll see we’re telling the truth,” Linc asserted. “None of us have police records.”

      With the sheriff and his deputies watching carefully, Linc, Mel and Ned handed him their identification.

      The sheriff glanced at all three pieces, then passed them to Pierpont. The young man swaggered over to his patrol car, apparently to check for any warrants or arrest records. He was back a couple of minutes later and returned their ID.

      “They don’t have records.” He seemed almost disappointed, Linc thought.

      The sheriff nodded. “What’s your sister’s name?”

      “Mary Jo Wyse,” Linc answered. “Can you tell us where we might find the Rhodes family? All we want to do is talk to them.”

      “Unfortunately Ben and Charlotte are out of the country,” the sheriff said.

      “You mean they aren’t even in town?” Mel asked, sounding outraged. He turned to Linc. “What are we going to do now? ”

      “I don’t know.” Mary Jo must have discovered this information about the Rhodes family on her own. The only thing left for her to do was head back to Seattle. She wouldn’t have any other options, which meant this entire venture through dismal traffic, falling snow and wretched conditions had been a complete waste of time.

      “She’s probably home by now and wondering where the three of us are,” Linc muttered.

      “Maybe.” Ned shook his head. “But I doubt it.”

      “What do you mean, you doubt it?”

      “Mary Jo can be stubborn, you know, and she was pretty upset last night.”

      “We should phone the house and see if she’s there,” Linc said, although he had a sneaking suspicion that Ned was right. Mary Jo wouldn’t give up that easily.

      “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Sheriff Davis inserted.

      Linc reached for his cell phone and called home. Five long rings later, voice mail kicked in. If his sister had gone back to Seattle, she apparently wasn’t at the house.

      “She’s not there,” Linc informed his brothers.

      “What did I tell you?” Ned sighed. “I know Mary Jo, and she isn’t going to turn tail after one setback.”

      This was more than a simple setback, in Linc’s opinion. This was major.

      “Have you tried her cell phone?” the sheriff suggested next.

      “Yeah, we did. A few times. No answer,” Linc said tersely.

      “Try again.”

      “I’ll do that now.” Linc took out his phone again and realized he didn’t know her number nor had he programmed it into his directory.

      He cleared his throat. “Ah, Ned, could you give me the number for her cell?”

      His youngest brother grabbed the phone from him and punched in Mary Jo’s number, then handed it back.

      Linc waited impatiently for the call to connect. After what seemed like minutes, the phone automatically went to voice mail. “She’s